


Office Politics

by B7grrl



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: F/M, Kink Bingo 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 06:24:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13001757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B7grrl/pseuds/B7grrl
Summary: Servalan has an order for Travis.





	Office Politics

**Author's Note:**

> Kink: Silence

"Supreme Commander." Travis came to a halt in front of Servalan's desk and clicked his heels. "You asked to see me."  
  
"I did." Servalan smiled and beckoned him closer with a red-nailed finger.  
  
Mystified, Travis leaned forward.  
  
"Over here, Travis." Servalan pointed at the comms board on her desk.  
  
Thinking she wanted to show him a vid, Travis went round the desk to stand beside her. Servalan deliberately pressed the on button, lighting up a red light, so that the outer office could hear, then raised her finger to her lips. Travis frowned. What did she want?  
  
She reached up and hooked his belt, drawing him closer, then undid it, laying it carefully on the desk. Then she unzipped his trousers, and looked up at him with one of those cat-that-got-the-cream smiles. Travis pulled back, but she had a surprisingly firm grip on his waistband. He was unable to keep himself from being aroused. Very.  
  
Servalan looked amused, and she indicated that he remove his trousers. With an eye on the red comms light, Travis peeled them down over his boots. She looked at him, raised her eyebrows, opened a small drawer, and removed a condom, size large, and put it on the desk. Her finger traced an L for "large" while her smile widened, and Travis almost laughed.  
  
As he put on the condom, she stood up and simply pulled her gown up to her waist. Everyone on HQ staff (and probably all of Space Fleet) knew that she did not wear underwear, presumably so as not to ruin the line of her trademark clinging gowns. Not the only reason, then.  
  
Servalan seated herself again, slid down, and put her legs over the arms of her chair, an ungainly manoeuvre that was done with her usual feline grace. Travis's mouth went dry at the sight. She pressed a button at the side of her chair to raise it to the correct level for him. She held her hands out, palm up, then curled her fingers in an abrupt and peremptory silent order.  
  
Travis was not about to refuse; in fact he did not think that he was capable of it now. He stepped forward so that he just touched her, then held his breath and entered her velvet warmth, his eyes on her face. Her even white teeth bit down on her soft pink lower lip, but she did not make a sound. He felt her tighten around him, release, then tighten again. He almost let out a groan, but remembered in time, biting down on a leather-gloved fist.  
  
She lowered her eyelids in satisfied amusement. Damn her! Determined not to lose this strange game, Travis began to move, his eyes locked with hers. He noticed her hands grip the sides of her chair, and smiled. It was an effort to hold on until she was ready, but he knew that this was also a test of sorts and one that he would not fail.  
  
Then she threw her head back, showing her smooth, pale throat, and breathed in tiny, barely audible little gasps. Travis abandoned all finesse and drove into her, his teeth gritted in the effort to hold back any involuntary grunts.  
  
As he withdrew, the urge to let his breath out in a loud sigh was almost too much, but he pressed his lips together and, taken by a sudden impulse, came to attention before her.  
  
Her eyes lit with appreciation, and she languidly indicated the box of tissues on a side table which Travis had always assumed were there for subordinates reduced to tears.  
  
Servalan stood up, smoothing her dress down, and sat again, as composed as if nothing had happened except for the brightness of her eyes and her flushed cheeks. She waited while Travis pulled his trousers up and put his belt back on, then spoke clearly.  
  
"Thank you, Travis. That will be all."  
  
Travis flushed, uncertain whether he had just been humiliated and used, or complimented.  
  
Servalan picked up her glass flower and smiled over it. "Tomorrow at 1500."  
  
As he turned to go, she saw her turn the comms off.


End file.
